Tonight I went to a therapist. I am still waiting for a psychiatrist to deem my insurance valuable enough to take me on as a patient. I have one that I have gotten by referral from my NPCP (not primary care physician. I’m on a PPO)

I have been in contact with his billing secretary (yup, medical/dental billing just like Sally Struthers used to advertise training for). She has told me he would call me within one business day for the past 3 days.

So tonight I went to a therapist. A licensed hypno-therapist. I’ve always been admittedly leery about hypnosis. My contact with it, of course is watching people at prom be dragged on stage and then summarily embarrassed. I’ve done some ‘guided meditations’ which have pretty much caused me to veg out and sometimes doze off; so… not a whole lot of investment here. (looking up to marvel at the fact that prom is not in the editor’s dictionary)

The therapist is a member of my religious faith. This I viewed as a good thing because it was a level of understanding that the person would share with me. So I entered with an open mind….

Well, let me be more honest, I entered with a desperate mind. The reason I scheduled the appointment or at least acquiesced to setting up an appointment was because I thought it might help me with a problem. Since about the beginning of the year I have been thoroughly unable to remember my dreams. This (amongst other things) has been troubling me. Since agreeing however, my general state has taken a horrible turn.

I’ve come to the realization that it is very likely that I am clinically bi-polar. Some friends may sing in chorus, “Well, duh.” You, see; I’ve known that I was suffering fits of depression; but it wasn’t until yesterday when I swung to a state where I was free associating thoughts on a calibre with Robin Williams and Wayne Brady; that I’d actually been able to recognize a manic state. Mind you; I really don’t want to lose the creativity that comes from this; but the mere recognition gave me a bit of a jolt. It didn’t snap it.

Now today was probably one of the worst days I’ve had at the office in quite a long time. I (as the new boy…even after a year) have acquired the “S*%# projects” to work on. This is the crap that no one else ever wants to work on and I’m slowly(, begrudgingly, and frustratingly) becoming the expert on. But today was day 6 of the thing that wouldn’t die. Some new problem would crop up and it would be presented to me as, “Why haven’t you fixed this bug yet.”

So me in my manic state boiled and gritted and actually vented (as peacefully as I could) at my manager. Who feels sorry that I’m working on another teams crap project because it’s delaying me from working on my own team’s crap project 😉

With this state (and people who’ve been reading know that I’ve been all over the place) I went to a hypno-therapist to ‘relax’

I may at some point go into the details of what I remember of the experience but let me hit the important piece right here, right now.

I feel good. I feel balanced. And most importantly, I feel like me. Not someone else that has been chipped away from the me I was. It doesn’t matter if all that happened was that I got an hour to unwind with a nice female voice talking to me…It doesn’t matter if I made that hypnotic cross over to innondate my sub-conscious with self affirming instructions. Why and what don’t matter.

I feel good. I feel like I can get better now. I’ve missed feeling this way.

I feel happy.

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